Typhoon Season
by The Vampyre's Widow
Summary: *was once Bara no Yugata; UPDATED* What happens when Weiß and Schwarz are locked up in their houses when a typhoon hits? Lotsa lemony goodness! (Pairings: RxY, KxO, FxS, BxN)
1. Chapter 1: Typhoon Alama

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz or the lyrics to Truth. I wish I did though ;_; 

Authors Note: He he…another PWP story to join the rest ~tosses her story in with the countless PWP's out there~ but hopefully this one will get a plot besides lotsa hot bishies screwing each other silly ^_^ 

Bara no Yugata

'Rose of Night'

By Black Widow

"Ame no mukou hitori Shizuka ni

Jikan wo wasure kimi wa matte iru

Gomen ne kyou boku wa aenai

Moshi mo aeba kowarete shimau"

            Rain poured in sheets on Tokyo, dark clouds rolling by overhead, lit every now and then by a flash of lightning. The windows of the Koneko rattled, an impressive bout of wind rattling the windows, causing the men inside to jump and stare at it. Typhoon Alama had decided to make her debut in Tokyo, pouring literal buckets of water down on the normally busy city to flood the streets and make people seek higher ground. 

            Most of the city was evacuated, namely the dock and mountainside areas that could be wiped out by a tsunami or mudslide. Thankfully, Koneko nii Sume Ie had been built on higher ground than the evacuated areas and that they lived on the second and third floor of the shop, they didn't have to go anywhere. 

            Youji glared at the window, puffing nervously on his cigarette. All the lights in the room had been turned off for electricity reasons, and a couple of candles were lit on the coffee table, casting an eerie glow over the room. The playboy was bored out of his wits, with nothing to do, no girls to flirt with and all the other members of Weiss were just as bored and cranky as he was. 

Typhoon equaled having to stay cooped up unless some nut wanted to go 'play in the rain' and get sent over the rainbow to where all the munchkins played. And he hated it. He could watch TV and ignore Omi's protests about how it would blow the fuses if the power should go out, which it hadn't. 

Ah well…let's see what's on! Picking up the remote, he flicked on the TV, flipping through the channels and turned it up. Like a Siren's call, it would get the kids attention and have him shouting in less than a minute. Oooo…something interesting…a talk show, American nonetheless, normally boring, but now called to his boredom to 'take a hike!'.   
            "YOUJI-KUUUUUUUUUUUUN! Turn off the TV!"

And there was the kid. 

AN: Review, review, review! No nummy reviews, no nummy chapters. All flames well be sent to NASA to send to space. 


	2. Chapter 2: Ouch! That's gotta hurt

**AN: Wheeeeee! Second chapter is out! If you didn't notice in the summary, I changed the Schwarz pairings, it's now BxN and FxS :p nyah! There's nothing you can do about it either! ~evil laugh; clears throat~ Anyway, this chapter contains very very slight ****shounen-ai so no lemons yet! :P but they will come! I'd like to thank ya'll for reviewing though, I feel loved ^_^. Arigato Chisa and Neko, Soxs, the Alchemist, Sabacat, Jaded, Schadleigh, Xel-chan, Shayneko and Cookie. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Weiß Kreuz or Schwarz (pooh ;_; ) nor the lyrics of EstE. **

Bara no Yugata 'Rose of Night' 

By Black Widow

"_Nanimo motomeruna_

_Sugu ni nozomu darou_

_Subete to no hira de kieru_

_Yokumo nanda tanoshimu ga ii_" 

            With Omi's piercing cry for Youji to turn off the TV or else, the two other members of Weiß snapped to attention. Ken from his nap and Aya from his reverie of staring out the window at the film of rain. Omi and Youji's impending argument on if the TV should stay off or on provided at least some sort of dull amusement until it died down. 

            Both redhead and brunette looked around the corner of the hallway into the living room, watching the fight. Omi was red-faced and yelling at the top of his lungs, Youji sat there on the couch, trying to see around the angry blonde so he could watch the show. Aya rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples. Such stupid reasons to fight, though he had seen even stupider, like that one fight over the milk that had been left out overnight.

            "Omi, Youji, yamate." He announced his presence, violet eyes daring them to keep talking. Wisely, both assassins stopped what they were doing, looking at their unappointed leader. "Youji, turn off the TV after the show is over."

            "Demo, Aya-!"

            "I mean it."

            The blonde pouted, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned. "Fine, meanie."

            "Doumo, Aya-kun." Omi smiled and shot Youji one of those smug looks before hopping out of the room.

            "Where's his off button?" The playboy aimed the remote at the other boy, hitting the power button over and over again. A scowl twisted his lips down, displaying white teeth as he continued to hit the power button until the kid disappeared from site. "Damnit, it doesn't work." 

            Aya only hrned, crossing his arms over his chest as he took a seat on the other side of the couch. He could really care less what program was on, American or not. He was worried about his imoto, if something happened to her, he knew he'd break, turn into a madman like Berzerker. She was his only family left, not like Omi who had no one left but Weiß. His eyes dampened but he blinked the tears away. Weiß was not to see his weakness; even he didn't want to see it.

            One glance at the playboy told him that the blonde had quickly become wrapped up into the show. The show itself was something stupid, the name was Jerry Springer, and as he watched it, he became even more convinced that it really was idiotic. Lots of people screaming at each other for cheating on someone else, and then two sisters sleeping with the same man. Oi, how stupid could the Americans be, this show was crap. Letting out an exasperated sigh, the redhead settled down to stare at the wall and wait for it for it to be over.

            For Youji, it was all over too soon. _There goes my entertainment_, he thought. Like a man condemned, he turned off the TV, reverting to full pouting mode. Like a child who couldn't have a cookie before dinner, he aimed his full-fledge pout at Aya, who wasn't even moved by it. "No."

            "Asshole." He muttered under his breath, slouching into the couch.

            Hrning once again, the stoic redhead tried to return to his room, but was stopped in the doorway by two hands on his back. His whole body tensed, each muscle ready to snap into action and beat off whoever had touched him. A hot breath caressed the back of his ear as Youji whispered into it. "Where's _your _power button?"   
            Since when had Youji moved off the couch?! The blonde could be quiet when he wanted to and that fact had proved itself once again. It seemed the older man had been surprising the assassin a lot more than usual lately, and not for a lack of relaxing his senses either. Youji wanted to surprise him, and he knew why too. The blonde was attracted to him, and had been openly flirting and touching him whenever Omi and Ken weren't in the room.

            A shiver ran down his back, followed by a wash of cool warmth as the other assassin got his hands under his orange turtleneck and ran them over his back. He was about to punch him in the stomach when the warm hands moved forward, running over his stomach. His stomach had always been really sensitive and he sucked in a breath, trying to get away from those pesky hands. 

            His complete lack of response was caused by the roadblock his brain had constructed, stemming any normal thoughts, causing everything to come down to Youji's hands, his breath against his ear, and his sleek, thin body against his own. Fingers ran over porcelain skin, soothing yet bringing a warm flush to the usually cold skin. Sparks danced in his veins, blood singing throughout his body and heading for his groin. 

            One of his hands started to drift north and the other migrated south, the one heading south for the winter was about to be slapped away, if Youji hadn't picked that time to brush his calloused fingers over a pebbled nipple. A gasp left the ice princess's mouth, eyes dilating to an extent. Sweet sensations rolled through his body to his half-erect cock, hardening it further. 

            Encouraged by the reactions he was getting, Youji brushed the tips of his fingers under the hem of Aya's black jeans, feeling the edge of his navel tease his fingers. The man in his arms was so delectable, pale china doll skin that rivaled every geisha's in Japan, cherry colored hair with Persian violet eyes that could be as cold as ice, or on fire with emotion. It was true he did like women, loved them actually, since he took one to bed every night or almost every night. So when he had become obsessed with Aya and then told him, it created a little bit of friction between them. 

            The stoic redhead thought that he was just a conquest to Youji, and Youji wasn't going to say a direct 'no' to that. It had started out as a conquest but now it was something that he was bending his whole soul into. And when Aya had asked why, his simple response had been 'I like pretty things, and you happen to be very pretty'. And so, there was friction.

            Youji sucked in his breath as an elbow solidly connected with his gut and Aya rammed his pert ass into his groin. There was nothing that was teasing about both moves they hurt! Even the ass in his groin, which caused him to immediately retract his hands and fall to the floor, writhing in pain. Gods above, the redhead sure had a bony ass! And it huuuuuuuurt.

            Aya stalked out of the room, huffing in indignity about what Youji had done and how his body had reacted. If the blonde did it again it wasn't going to be an elbow in the gut, he'd give him a black eye and a couple broken ribs to match. The slamming of a door left Youji alone, the rain beating down outside, always tapping on the window.

                                                            ~~~*~~~

            "La la la…" Schuldig hummed as he watched Crawford working at his laptop in the green Victorian styled chair in the penthouse living room. Since the only electricity allowed to run in the apartment was for the refrigerator and freezer, along with a couple of lights, the American had been forced to resort back to his laptop in order to get things done. Papers were strewn everywhere in the room, as well as a blazer, vest and tie that had once been adorned on Crawford's personage. As much as Schuldig would have loved to proclaim that it was him that had caused the other man to take off the items of clothing, he wasn't.

            Not even being locked up with a Level 3 Typhoon raging outside made the American stop his working and the steady clack clack of fingers on computer keys was driving the German crazy. "Brrrraaaaaaad, why don't you stop working?" He whined, enjoying the rush of blood to his head from his upside down position on the couch, feet waving in the air.

            "Stop calling me that." He said in response, not bothering to answer the question that had been tossed at him. Ever since the telepath had grown bored with Nagi's Gameboy he had made it his life mission to drive everyone crazy…until the storm passed that is. Nagi had already fled to his room, and Brad didn't give a damn either way. "Go bother Farfello."

            "Farfles?" Schuldig flipped over, which made him fall over as well. "Ittai." He sat up, rubbing his head where he'd hit it on the floor. "Might as well, you're not being interesting right now." 

            "I'm not supposed to be." Oracle couldn't help but smirk at Schuldig as the flame-haired man left the room, huffing. 

            With a mental scan he knew that Nagi was still trying to do his homework with the roar of the wind right outside his window, and Farfello was in the guest bedroom, doing something. The madman had been moved out of his cell in the basement since it had started to flood. The flooding had supposedly 'hurt God' but they didn't want to take the chance of losing a member because of it. Farfello was actually quite happy to have a room of his own again that didn't look like a cell.

            Peeking into the darkroom, Schuldig was able to pick him out of the shadows by the glinting of dim light on knife blades. Whatever the madman was doing it included a lot of knives, blood and tape. "Hey, Farfles, what're you making?"

            "A castle." He didn't look up from what he was doing, too busy taping two serrated blade together to form the corner of the main hall.

            "Oooo….can I play?"

**AN: More reviews, more chapters! ^___^ Muwahahaha! All reviews will be sent to NASA as test flight subjects. **


	3. Chapter 3: Blood and Rain

**AN: Ah, another chapter ~sniffs proudly~ And don't kill me for this one. Absolutely no lemons, the barest of ****shounen-ai with some hints of the KenxOmi relationship. o.o No word yet on how Aya's dealing with Youji's advance.**

[Aya] ~talking to his katana~ I'm going to kill that bastard

O.O!!!! Ok…umm…on with the story ^^;; 

Bara no Yugata

'Rose of Night'

Chapter 3

By Black Widow

            "Ittai!"

            "Och, ye witless fool, shouldn'ta touched the blade." 

            "Well excuuuuse me. Not all of us are immune to pain!" Schuldig said, as he sucked on his cut finger. He'd been trying to get a knife into position on the roof of the castle and had grabbed the blade when it started to fall out of position. Building a castle with knives and duct tape was not as easy as it looked at first, especially since the knife's blade kept slicing through the tape. 

            Farfello only shrugged, concentrating on putting the said knife into its place, ignoring the little cuts that riddled his fingers. The blood made his work a little slippery but it didn't matter to him, he was used to it. With a quick swath of duct tape the blade was firmly in place. "There."

            Green eyes peered at the structure of knives and tape, eyeing the new addition to it. Several knives in the castle he could recognize as having been pilfered from knife sets in the kitchen. The poor set they had was mis-matched because they had to buy new knives to replace the ones that had disappeared. At least he knew where they went now, even though they all had suspicions but had never seen the Irishman with them.

            "What're ye doin' here, anyway, German?" 

            Jade green eyes looked up into a singular gold one. "Cuz I'm bored." He said around his finger, idly sucking on it even though it had stopped bleeding. 

            "Och, go find yerself something to amuse ye."

            "There's nothing to do!"

            "Go play with ye're minds."

            "Even they're boring." Schuldig frowned, casting his mind out over the citizens of Tokyo. "All worried about Alama and shit."

            Farfello only shook his head, taking another knife by the blade and fitting it in to the roof, with another swath of tape. "Done."

The Germans attention was not on the castle, though he did spare it a look. His attention was on the madman's hands. The pale hands were covered in blood, finger pads and palms sliced open by handling the knives without a care for his flesh. Intrigued by this he took a hand in his own, pulling it close to his face, knowing the curve he was putting in the others spine wouldn't discomfort him.

            Fingers dabbled in the blood, smearing it around so he could see the wounds closer. They weren't deep, but just bleeding a lot. A wicked idea came to mind, a sinister smile coming to his face. 

            Farfello arched an eyebrow at the smile. What was the German planning? A pink tongue darted out between full lips, dipping in the salty, crimson fluid. Oh, that's what he was planning.

            He mentally cheered on himself when a shudder passed through the others body as his tongue lapped at the blood, running over the cut. So Farfello couldn't feel pain but could feel pleasure where pain was supposed to be. He really hadn't expected that but it was a reasonable explanation why the man liked cutting himself up so much. That was good; it played right into his plan.

            The whispered words barely made it to Farfello's ears, too full of the sound of pounding blood to have any other sound penetrate them. The one gold eye fixated on Schuldig's mouth, the lips crimson red from his own blood with a tongue the same color nestled inside. He would taste like blood and cinnamon, he knew already. The thought sent a chill down his spine, another shudder, at knowing that the German would taste like him. 

            This brought his attention to the whispered words that the German had spoken. He was all to eager to comply now.

            "Scheisse mir."

~~*~~

            Once he was done ruining Youji's fun, the genki teen of Weiß pranced into his boyfriends bedroom, large smile planted on his face. With the Typhoon, amusement was rare and that had been amusing. "Moshi, Ken-chan!"

            Ken looked up from his soccer magazine, smiling back at the boy. "Hello, Omi." He scooted over to make room for him, which was happily taken up by the teen, cuddling against his lover.

            "That was fun. Did you see Youji-kuns face?" Omi giggled, recalling the blondes face when Aya walked into room, which had been an 'oh-shit-I'm-going-to-die' look. Quite amusing and always good for a laugh.

            Blue eyes watched the head of blonde hair. "You've gotten quite sadistic, koi. Are you sure you feel alright?"

            "Of course! Never better!" Attention now taken by the pounding of relentless rain outside, the blonde crawled across his lover's lap, which elicited a grunt. "Gomen." He apologized as the curtain was pushed aside. A thick film of rain covered the pexiglass, making objects outside blurred and hard to distinguish.

**Reviews: I think we all know the deal by now…review! Or no more chapters! Muwahahahaha!**


	4. Chapter 4: Brotherly Love?

Authors Note: I FINALLY got this chapter out! I got sidetracked by school and family problems before I rediscovered the story and finished it. It has barest shounen-ai but I do promise a nice lemon (damn the R rating!) in the next chapter but I shant say who it is! If you guess who it is in the reviews, leave your SN or MSN name and I'll get in contact with you. First person who gets it right gets to decide what happens in the lemon! ^_^ Typhoon Season Chapter 4 

By Black Widow

            Rain pounded against the windows, the howling of wind loud in his ears, ever present and never-ending. Darkness was thick on the horizon and thick in the clouds, choking light, turning everything into a dull shade of gray. But even the darkness could not dull the color of fervent red and violet. Aya sat on his bed, katana lying across his lap, and the blade gleaming dulling in the gray light.

            The cleaning cloth made soft sounds as it was ran up and down the length of the metal blade. Perfection at it's best, he loved his katana. It protected him, served him when he needed it and most certainly didn't have a mind of its own so that it could talk back or whine. And it was strong and never failed. 

            He ran a finger down the sharp side of the blade, ever so gently and wasn't surprised at the thin line of blood that it brought forth. Each katana blade was folded at least thirteen times during the making, the blade so sharp a floating piece of paper would be sliced in two if it ran over the blade. It was one of the things he loved about it.

            "Damn Youji." He muttered for the thousandth time during the hour he'd been in his room. Yes, damn Youji and damn his hands. The blonde couldn't tell when to stop, even when the redhead had been telling him directly to leave him alone. Gods how he wanted to carve the man like an American Thanksgiving Turkey. And damn Kritiker for not letting him do it a year ago.

            He sat in silence for another five minutes before someone knocked on his door. "Dare?" He barked out, glaring at the piece of wood.  
            "I want to talk to you Aya." Came a very familiar and annoying voice.  
            "No!"

            "Onegai?"

            "Hrn…"  
            Taking that as an answer the Eurasian slipped inside, green eyes growing a bit larger at the site of the Nishonto in Aya's lap. 

            "What do you want?"

~~*~~

            Nagi growled at the wall separating his room from the madman's. The moans went right through the thin walls of the penthouse, being built the Japanese way. He really didn't want to know what the German and Irishman were doing…or whom they were doing, but he had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

            _"Nagichin, you know that you can come join us if you want."_ Schuldigs' thick baritone slid into his mind, practically purring. 

            The teal eyes rolled in their cradles of dark lashes at the invitation. _"No thank you, I'd rather not catch whatever STD you have."_

            The other only laughed, patting Nagi mentally on the head and leaving him to his work. The telekinetic placed his pen against the paper again, writing out sharp, uniform kanji for his report. It was on the expectations of society on the individual and he had a good three pages already. 

            A loud thump followed by a louder groan came from the other side of the wall, sufficiently distracting the brunette from his paper. 'Damnit…I can't get any work with those rabbits in the next room.' Nagi grabbed his papers and a clipboard, placing the papers and a couple leafs of plain paper under the clip. 

            He knew he could get some work done downstairs with Crawford. At least the stoic American didn't bother him while he was doing schoolwork like Schuldig would. Tromping out of his room and giving Farfello's door a sharp kick, he headed downstairs into the living room and flopping less then gracefully on the couch. The ballpoint pen danced across the paper, moved by unseen hands.

            "Are they being too loud?" Crawford asked from behind his laptop. In Schuldig's absence piles of papers had appeared at his side, some finding their way to the floor as he sorted through them.

            "Hai…" Nagi closed his eyes for a second, listening to the beat of rain and the howling of wind outside. He didn't mind the typhoon really; it was just another storm to him. After Alama left the inhabitants of Tokyo would pick up right where they left off and everything would go back to being normal. 

            Without meaning too, the teen fell asleep. The pen fell into his lap, the telekinetic hand no longer writing anymore. Two other hands removed the clipboard and pen, setting them on the end table. A blanket was draped over him, the hands carefully tucking it in. Crawford smiled, leaning down and brushing his lips over Nagi's brow before returning to his seat. 

**Review: Review, review!! Feed the widow, Widow'll take bishies! **


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